


When All is Lost

by Lyriumsong (Hinata_Akiama)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinata_Akiama/pseuds/Lyriumsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan comes back from the Future, saves the Mages and the world in the process, but is unable to cope with what she's seen. Blackwall offers comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When All is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been on some major writer's block for a month or so, and I just started up a playthrough for my Ariadne Lavellan. my husband talked me into Blackwall, and all I could think of while playing 'In Hushed Whispers' was this little tidbit. Be warned, it is unbeta'd, except for my couple of read throughs. Enjoy!

Ariadne sobbed. The clatter of her knives hitting the floor masked the first hiccup that burst from her, but not the loud clang of her armored knees hitting the floor. The slender Herald buried her tattooed face in her hands, the sharp points of her gauntlets tearing at her hair lightly, mouth open in a low, shivering wail. She’d rushed into another room after Alexius had been apprehended, and she’d given the Mages freedom as the Inquisition’s allies. The terror and sadness from that horrifying future completely overwhelming the Dalish rogue.

Growing up as Ariadne had, she’d never faced anything like fear, or death, or anything like what had just happened in that horrible future. Sure, her Clanmates may have passed on, but for the most…Her Clan never left the forests. Never got into arguments with the humans, never had a raid on their people, as others had.

Armored arms wrapped around her own slender frame, trying to keep some type of composure. It was some type of closet, probably for the staff to keep their supplies, but the most important part was that it was dark and safe, and she could feel Dirthamen’s presence in the quiet dark around her.

Blonde hair fell in clumps around her face, sweat and tears mingling on her skin, even as Ariadne tried to rein in her rampant emotions. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Blackwall, red lyrium growing from his skin, lifeless form thrown into the room by the horde of demons bearing down on Leliana. Varric’s horrifyingly still frame crumpling to the floor next to the Warden’s lifeless corpse. Dorian screaming no, if you move, you kill us all. You can’t save them.

Ariadne let out a keening wail, tears streaming in rivulets in the dirt and blood caked on her tanned skin as she gagged, dry heaving as her hands connected hard with the floor, trying to keep her slight frame from toppling in on itself.

The Dalish jumped as arms wrapped around her, ears shivering, a soothing voice finally being acknowledged. Blackwall…It was Blackwall. He must have followed her into the room, and she twisted in his hold, burying herself into his broad chest.

"Oh Ariadne. . " He sighed deeply, rubbing her back as she cried into his neck, nestled close to him. "I don’t know what you saw there, Ari, but I’m sorry." Blackwall murmured, his voice rumbling through her chest, comforting in ways that she couldn’t even being to articulate.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat on the floor. After awhile, Blackwall had sat down hard on his arse, crossing his legs in front of him, and pulling her into his lap. Their armor clanked together lightly, her leathers catching in a couple of his plates, his padding tugged between her sharp gauntlets, the back of her calf attached to a loop on his greave, but comfortable for the time being. Her arms had looped under his own, hands resting over his spine, low on his back. Her face was pressed into the padding and beard at his neck, damp now with her tears.

Blackwall’s hands left her hips for a moment, gauntlets clattering gently as he removed them, running his bare hands through her honey-coloured locks. “Was that the first time you’d seen loss, my Lady?” The Warden asked roughly, palming the back of her head and watching the ear closest to his face twitch back and forth.

It was one of the odd things Blackwall had noticed about this so-called Herald of Andraste. Her ears were always swiveling at every noise, either perking up, or drooping down and back, depending on whatever she’d heard. At his voice, they rested back at the ‘neutral’ position he’d seen a scant few times since joining the Inquisition a couple of weeks back.

"We. . I. ." She sniffled, reaching up to daub at her nose lightly with her un-armored wrist, trying to speak through the tears that had finally started to slow. "We had. . death, of course. The old and the rare hunting accident but…My Clan was very very well off for the Dalish. Everyone left us alone, and we…We were blessed. Plenty of food and water, so few outbreaks of disease or injury. ." She shuddered deeply, skin chill from the rapid change of fighting for her life, to being curled up in the freezing air. Blackwall’s heat was the only thing keeping her muscles from seizing up completely.

"Then I am far more sorry, my Lady. That you had to see. . whatever you saw." He sighed, shifting to tuck her closer to his bulk, resting his chin atop Ariadne’s head, fingers rubbing the back of her neck. Blackwall’s lips pressed into a thin line, deciding against pressing the issue of what exactly had happened. He would be here, provide whatever comfort he could for Ariadne, and later, he would coax what had happened out of her. He was surprised to find that the woman’s pain made his heart clench in it’s own tremor of fear. Even if Blackwall couldn’t be honest with her, he would be honest with himself. He cared for her, hurt when she did, and seeing the proud woman brought so low made Blackwall want to march back out there and shove his sword through Alexius’ gut.

The Warden swallowed thickly, shifting to press his lips against the top of Ariadne’s head, his hand tightening a little bit in her hair. She gave a quiet murmur under the ministration, her blue-green eyes fluttering open for a moment reflecting pale yellow in the low light, giving the illusion of some type of big cat in the night, before she nuzzled against the underside of his jaw.

No, he would not run out there and act on his violent urges. He would care for Ariadne as much as he could, and then they would get back to Haven, they would close the Breach, and he would end this foolish…whatever was going on between them.

Blackwall vowed he would not allow Ariadne to hurt on his behalf. Even if it meant hurting them both to get there. At least that would be less than her finding out the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my tumblr [and most of my writing] at Lyriumsong.fenharel.co


End file.
